Love, Not War
by JustAGirlWithAPen
Summary: England, France, Spain and Russia all get together so their children can have a playdate. Chibi! America, Canada, Romano, Alaska, Brazil and Haiti, and Native!America. Prepare for cuteness! :


Playdate

**AN: Well, here's another oneshot! Enjoy the cuteness~ Yes, there is a reference to Native America, who I personified as a country. I have my friend's OC Brazil, a former colony of Portugal, and Haiti, an OC of mine. A pretty standard fem!Alaska OC is in there too (I think it should be separate from America because it used to belong to Russia!)**

**Sorry for the historical inaccuracies. I know they probably weren't all babies at the same time…and My Chemical Romance wasn't around back then (how did they live?), but I couldn't resist :3**

It was a beautiful fall day, and the world was peaceful and (fairly) innocent.

France, England, and Spain all stood at the edge of the playground, watching their kids play.

Romano was sitting on the swings alone, sulking and probably mumbling Italian curse words. Brazil and America were sitting in the mulch, tossing a ball back and forth with their tiny chubby hands. Canada was lying down and playing a game with his half sister, Haiti. She would put a maple lead over his face, and he would blow it up into the air. Haiti would then shriek, catch the leaf, and start again.

France sighed. "We have such beautiful children. The world will be even more beautiful once they're grown~"

"Don't you even think about touching my America, frog! I know you're a bloody pedophile," Britain grumped. His foil only laughed – his annoying, _very French _laugh.

"I wouldn't think of it, _mon_ _Angleterre_. You know I care only for you," he responded with a dramatic sweep of his arm. England snorted.

Romano ran up to Spain. "Tomato bastard, play some music, will you?" he grumbled. Spain bent down and tweaked the little Italian's cheek.

"Alright, _mi tomate_. Hey, who wants to hear a song?" he exclaimed, pulling out his guitar. Several children rushed over and eagerly sat in a half-circle around him when he kneeled. Even America was silent. Canada stayed behind on the swings with another child, giggling happily. England turned to France.

"So, what's your kid's human name?" England asked.

"Who, Canada? His name is _Matteiu_," he sighed. "He has my sexy hair. What about-oh wait, his name is Alfred!" France laughed.

"Say! Who's Matthew playing with?"

"Oh, that's India," he responded. "Wait- that's not India!" Immediately, the dark-skinned child with feathers in his hair hopped up from his swing and dashed into the woods.

"Oh, I remember that one. He still pesters America sometimes," Britain said. France nodded as he watched Canada join the others.

"He seems to be friendly enough. Canada and him are good friends, he's just really good at running away."

"Mama, we all go to hell," five little voices sang. "Mama, we all go to hell! I'm writing this lah-tah, and wishing you well. Mama, we all go to hell." France and England looked at each other, than at Spain.

"Antonio, do you mind playing a less _morbid _song to our little ones? I don't imagine Gerard Way to be all too great for children…" England trailed off.

"Oui, I agree with _mon Angleterre. _Play something happy and Spanish!" France suggested. Good-natured Spain shrugged and switched to a energetic rumba. The children all cheered and started clapping along as Spain taught them some lyrics to go with it. England noted with a smirk that little Romano even sang along under his breath. What a curious, adorable child.

The two blonde nations were startled by a girl in a heavy coat dashing past to join in with the other children. She was pale and had ink-black hair cascading over her silver scarf. The nations turned around and the same time.

"Privet~!" Russia said merrily, towering over the two Europeans. They greeted him with limited enthusiasm, but relaxed when they realized he wasn't in territory-seizing mode. "I heard about your little playdate, and decided to bring _sol nysh ka _with me!"

"Wonderful," said England. "What's her name again?"

"Alaska. Her human name is Annakpok, but I think 'Anya' suits her well," Russia paused, smiling sadly. "Poor thing doesn't get out much. She's cold and isolated, like me~" Russia didn't pick up the irony in his statement. The three looked over at their respective kids, all in a row. Alaska sat between Canada and America, braiding the former's hair while he made clover chains. America kept reaching over Alaska's shoulder to poke his twin. Spain strummed the final note of "Feliz Navidad" and rose.

"Aww, why'd the music stop?" America whined. Spain patted the little one on the head.

"I'm all out of songs for today, _chico_, but you can come over and listen sometime in you want," Spain said whilst stretching his back. He buckled the guitar back into its hard case.

The Spanish nation looked up to see a meek-looking Romano rubbing his eyes. The chibi nation was obviously tired, but trying not to show it. Spain chuckled and tossed him a tomato. "Time for your siesta, _mi tomate_?" Romano shook his head, but allowed Antonio to pick him up.

"I better head home. _Mija _is pretty tired," "Mmm nnt," Romano interjected. "and I could use a _siesta_ myself. _Adios!_" The three nations bid him farewell, and Romano snuggled deeper into Spain's chest.

Britain was waving at them when America tackled his legs, nearly knocking him over. "FEEEEED MEEEEEE!" he yelled. The Englishman picked him up and swung the toddler nation around.

"My, you're getting chubby!" he commented, holding the sandy-haired child on one hip.

"Feed me! I'm hungry!"

"You're always hungry."

"NOM." America mouthed the collar England's tweed jacket.

"Easy there! Here, have a scone," the older nation chuckled, pulling out a slightly burnt and dusty "pastry". America ate it with enthusiasm. Once the child ran off to torture his little brother, France snorted.

"My Canada would never eat such a culinary disgrace!" he exclaimed in genuine disgust and wonder.

"The same boy who's poking a dead mouse with a stick?" Sure enough, he was. France ran over to redirect his colony.

"Who is the girl with America?" Britain jumped. He had quite forgotten Russia was there.

"Oh, that's Brazil. I say!" he noted, "Spain forgot to bring Brazil back home with him! Portugal couldn't make it, you see…" he trailed off. With Russia, less was always more.

"No worries. I will taking the girl home," Russia sighed. "Alaska doesn't have many friends her age and gender." England nodded. "I find children so… peaceful. They make friends so easily, they don't make war, and all their emotional toil can be fixed with cookies and a hug. Da?"

"Yeah," Britain agreed. Who would've guessed he's share such a heart-warming moment with one of the world's coldest nations? France flounced back over, looking a bit ruffled. _He's just die if he had to handle America, _Britain thought. _Matthew is such an easy child._

Russia promptly lumbered off to go play a game with the girls. Alaska, Brazil and Haiti seemed to adore him as he took turns swinging them around, playing "birdie". America and his twin were apparently playing peacefully for once, out of sight.

"Want to go see what the boys are up to?" England asked. "Oui." They walked behind the swing set to find a small sand pit covered with sticks. America's hands were muddy, and Canada had sand in his hair. They both looked disappointed.

"Aww, you ruined the surprise!" America half-shouted. Canada shook his hair like a dog.

"What exactly were you making?" France inquired, bending to the twins' level.

"A parent trap!" Canada whisper-shouted, only to have his brother say the same thing at a higher volume level.

"And what exactly would you do if you trapped us?" England asked, bending on one knee and smirking.

"Make you get married so I can live with Alfie!" Canada exclaimed, hugging his dirty brother who sprinkled sand in his hair once again.

_Onhonhonhonhonhon! _France laughed. England suppressed a groan of annoyance.

England knew he was blushing, and threw a "look" at the other nation. France quelled his laugher, although he maintained a smirk. "I see I have taught you well, Matteiu, oui?"

"Oui!" Matthew jumped into his father's arms, gleeful and worn out.

"I think it is time we retire. Matteiu needs his beauty sleep, and so do I!" France and Canada waved, and Haiti ran to join them. "Adeiu!" she called to Russia and the other girls. And then there were five.

"Well, Ivan, I think Alfred and I are going to head home too," England told the large nation. He nodded and put Alaska on his shoulders. America and Brazil were hugging; it almost broke England's heart to tear them apart. They were such pretty children, albeit unlikely friends. She had pretty brown hair and green eyes, while he was had a darker version of England's hair and blue eyes.

"C'mon, Alfred," he called, opening up his arms.

"No! I wanna stay with Brazil!" he exclaimed, clinging tighter to his giggling friend. Russia winked at England.

"Alright then," England agreed, turning to walk away.

"You can stay and become one with Mother Russia!" the silver-haired nation exclaimed, making his daughter burst into hysterical laughter. "We can go back to my place and make hot chocolate and sit inside all winter!"

"ARRTHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUR!" America cried as he ran to his father country. England chuckled and scooped him up. He _was _getting heavy.

As they walked home, England wondered how long he would be able to hold this tiny country in his arms. For the moment, though, he busied himself with thoughts of playdates, naps, and snuggling in the sun with his cute little colony.

**A/N: Some things I forgot to add: I'm pretty sure that Haiti was a French colony at some point. I made her Canada's half-sister because it seemed to make sense. She's not really Alfred's half-sister. Also, I referenced the movie "the Parent Trap", although the rights to that movie belong to Disney of course. **

**Hetalia belongs to the fabulous Hidekaz Himaruya; I merely borrow his characters for my nefarious purposes.**

**Annakpok- means "free" or "not captured" in Inuit/Eskimo, and Anya is a pet name usually referring to someone named "Anna"**

"**Sol nysh ka", to the best of my understanding, means "my little sun" in Russian. Correct me if I'm wrong!**


End file.
